BIA Ch. 29

“Pigmentation…?”

“Yeah, like freckles on the skin.”

Freckles in the eyes. It was certainly plausible, but Isaiah was disgusted with himself for still finding it somewhat cute. He was truly beyond redemption.

“By the way, is this sweat? You don’t have a fever, though.”

“No… it’s just my hair… it’s not fully dry yet…”

But perhaps I was sweating too. Muttering, Isaiah closed his eyes again. He wanted to feel the man’s hand stroking his forehead a little longer. There was no awareness of being indulged. He simply wanted to use the excuse of being half-asleep to enjoy this absurd luxury a little more.

Bran had very large hands. And they were warmer than he had expected. Why had he assumed everything about this man would be cold? He was actually a man with such warm hands….

He could no longer even recall the dream’s content, but the soothing hand stroking his forehead was so warm that Isaiah was seized by the urge to cry. Even though he thought for a moment that he shouldn’t, he ended up asking,

“Why would you kill him?”

“Who, Gilman?”

Bran asked immediately. Instead of answering, Isaiah opened his eyes and looked up at Bran.

“Huh?”

Bran looked down at Isaiah with a smile in his eyes. Dressed in a perfectly fitted vest that exposed his waistline, without a jacket, and with such an innocent, childlike expression, his usual dignified air vanished, and for the first time, the fact that he was the same age as Chester felt real.

“Because he said terrible things to you.”

At the unexpected answer, Isaiah covered his face with one arm.

“Just for that reason….”

But no matter what he did, he couldn’t hide the chuckle that escaped his lips.

“Just for that reason?”

Bran echoed Isaiah’s words, his voice tinged with laughter.

“Just for that reason.”

Isaiah muttered, still covering his face. He would rather Bran have said that Gilman had been too loud. That he killed him because, left unchecked, it would have eventually reached Chester’s ears. Then he wouldn’t feel this way. Like this… with his heart pounding like it would burst with a joy he could no longer conceal.

“He was your subordinate.”

Finally lowering his arm and looking at Bran, Isaiah spoke. Bran, stroking Isaiah’s disheveled bangs, replied,

“He was merely a member of the Kalisz faction. I have no subordinates here.”

“Samuel too?”

“Samuel too.”

“Why? He follows your instructions so well.”

Isaiah asked, his expression conveying his confusion. Bran gazed at him quietly, then slowly slid the hand that had been toying with his hair downwards. Over his eyelids, across his cheekbones, down his cheek, the tracing fingers finally reached his lips.

“That’s because I’m the underboss of the Kalisz family.”

Bran whispered softly, caressing Isaiah’s lips with his fingertips.

“Think about it. If I were an ordinary person, would Samuel have listened to me?”

“I see….”

Isaiah mumbled whatever came to mind. In truth, he didn’t even know what he was saying. He had long since lost his composure to Bran’s touch, tracing his face and lips.

“Okay.”

The caress on his lips became more intimate.

“Bran.”

“Huh?”

You’re a pitiful human being too.

Isaiah clearly wanted to say those words. No, he intended to say them. However…

“Are we going to have s3x…?”

For some reason, the moment he opened his mouth, those words tumbled out.

“No.”

Bran said with a smile. His rejection was so refreshing that Isaiah had no time to feel embarrassed.

“Why?”

“Because I would not want to be reported.”

“Reported?”

What kind of report? As soon as Isaiah blinked, Bran cupped Isaiah’s lips with his hands, forming them into a sparrow’s beak.

“You’re eighteen.”

“What…no!”

Isaiah, embarrassed, slapped Bran’s hand away.

“Nineteen years old! Besides, that’s not really me. It’s Isaiah Diaz.”

Looking at Isaiah desperately protesting, Bran nodded as if he already knew.

“Anyway, it’s you now, too.”

Ah…everything, again.

At that moment, Isaiah felt a strange sense of déjà vu. No, it wasn’t quite déjà vu. He knew exactly when he had felt this way before. It was earlier today. Half a day ago, in front of that cabinet over there.

‘Do you like black?’

‘Not me…no, I guess I do.’

‘So, it’s not you.’

That was the first time he had thought something was strange. Until last night, Bran had treated Isaiah Diaz as nothing more than a mask worn by Isaiah Cole. He had even explicitly stated that he needed the person inside and they should figure out how to remove the mask quickly.

But today…ever since they had returned from the hospital, there were times when Isaiah felt like Bran was differentiating between Isaiah Cole and Isaiah Diaz.

Had Dr. Ackerman told him to do that? That it would help in regaining his original memories?

Whatever the reason, Isaiah felt a little relieved. He had been worried ever since Bran started stroking his forehead. He had been worried that Bran might be drunk and acting this way. He had seen him with a drink in his hand constantly at Cedric’s house. So, he had wondered if Bran, in his intoxicated state, was mistaking him for Isaiah Cole, directing actions meant for Isaiah Cole towards him. Well, of course, from Bran’s perspective, it wasn’t a mistake, as he was also Isaiah Cole, but still.

But the fact that Bran clearly recognized him as Isaiah Diaz…it was beyond relief. It made him incredibly happy. Happy and joyful, beyond words.

Worried his expression would betray him, Isaiah hurriedly covered his face with his hands but Bran immediately caught his wrist.

“Why?”

“No, just…”

Isaiah mumbled vaguely. Then, worried Bran might misunderstand, he added in a low voice,

“Just…a little embarrassed.”

Having said it, he felt even more embarrassed. At the same time, he felt pathetic about his own uncontrollable emotions. He had just resolved not to be greedy and here he was again.

But then again, as long as he didn’t express his feelings for Bran first, what was the harm? Was there really a need to refuse s3x? Especially if Bran was the one initiating it, there wasn’t really a reason to refuse, was there?

“Have you ever had s3x?”

“What?”

Startled by the word he had been thinking about privately suddenly coming from Bran’s mouth, Isaiah cried out. Bran smiled, pressing his lips to the back of Isaiah’s hand.

“I asked if you’ve had s3x.”

“No, well, shouldn’t you know that better than me?”

Isaiah looked up, his expression questioning why Bran would ask, considering he even knew about his preference for pain. Bran lifted his lips from the back of Isaiah’s hand and said,

“No, I mean you.”

“Ah.”

Isaiah then started to search his own memories, the memories of Isaiah Diaz. Vague images surfaced: partying with his classmates, drinking, getting drunk, engaging in close physical contact under the guise of bonding…but…

“I…don’t…think I’ve…had s3x.”

“I see.”

Bran gently placed Isaiah’s hand back down.

“Ah, why!”

Isaiah exclaimed, sitting up.

“Have your first time with someone your age.”

“That’s you!”

“No, with a freshman like you.”

“What? Are you crazy? I’m thirty-one. It would be a crime to sleep with a nineteen-year-old.”

“Yeah, that’s how I feel right now.”

Bran, who had stood up and straightened his tie, said.

“Looking at your face, you don’t look your age at all. I already thought you looked young, but right now, you seem completely unripe, even on the inside.”

Like I would get sick if I ate you. Bran said, picking up his suit jacket from the bedpost. He also grabbed Isaiah’s jacket from the hanger and tossed it onto the bed.

“Let’s go.”

“What? Where?”

“To my house.”

Bran left the bedroom, putting on his jacket. Then, his voice drifted from the entranceway.

“If you want to sleep with a corpse, I won’t stop you.”

Isaiah quickly grabbed his jacket, jumped off the bed, and shouted,

“I’ll go!”